


Speak Easy

by Oilux



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 1920's era, Dancing, M/M, Singing, Speakeasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-09 15:02:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13483971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oilux/pseuds/Oilux
Summary: 1924, a year when prohibition was still running strong through the country and not leaving a drop for the regular man to drink. On a late night, Lance convinces his friends to go with him to the newest Speakeasy, but maybe moonshine and homemade alcohol isn't the only thing they find.





	Speak Easy

**Author's Note:**

> A lovely and fun little one shot that I had a lot of fun writing. Maybe I'll write more?

The speakeasy wasn’t as hard to find as they thought it would be. Not when they were so popular and wanted, when people wanted alcohol on their tongues more than they a dying man craved a drop of water. Lance went for the freedom of the dance, the way alcohol tasted on his tongue as it slid down his throat, the music in his ears. Hunk and Pidge didn’t go often with him, but when they did, the night went from fun to magical.

His waistcoat was buttoned firmly against his chest, the black, pinstripe tie tucked into the vest. His jacket was slung over one shoulder, gambler hat tucked underneath his arm. Pidge wore a suit almost the same as Lance’s own, but she had always been more comfortable in suits than she had been in dressed, and Hunk was dressed more casually, no jacket to be seen and a bowler hat tucked on his head. The three of them got out of Lance’s breezer and made their way through the darkened lot towards the boring, rather nondescript door.

“Bet you a clam we’re in the wrong place,” Pidge muttered. Hunk snorted in laughter, and Lance gave her a look. She was always so smart with him, leaving him to catch up. 

“We’re in the right place.” Lance came up to the door. He knocked loudly on it, knuckles stinging from the force of it. 

“If the bulls come, I’m blaming you, Lance,” Hunk muttered. Lance gave him a look, but nothing else as a small panel on the door opened, revealing music and a stream of golden light that bathed over the trio.

“What’re you looking for?” A deep voice asked, not threatening, merely curious. Lance cleared his throat, bouncing foot to foot. 

“Heard the circus was in town.” Lance prayed this wasn’t some hoax, that he hadn’t given a sawbuck over for no good reason. 

“What’s your favorite animal in the circus?” The voice asked after a giving a chuckle. 

“The lions.”

The panel slid closed, but only for a moment before the door opened and the party was greeted before them. Lance led the trio in, laughing slightly at the music and the laughter that immediately greeted them. Hunk and Pidge didn’t comment, but they seemed just as amused as he was to be allowed entrance to the speakeasy.

“I need a drink,” Pidge spoke up, glancing at the stage. “Expected this place to be dirtier.”

Lance couldn’t help but agree. It was better than the last one that they had gone to, with live music entertaining the people there, many people dancing away as they forgot their troubles for a night. Everyone had a drink in hand, all of them aiming for one goal, to forget the law existed. 

“I’m getting a seat.” Hunk declared, making his way further into the club. Lance breathed deeply, following his friend, feeling the sound of the music reverberate through his chest the closer they got to the stage. The voice singing, not a woman but a man, had a nice voice, just low enough to be considered sultry without ruining the songs.

“Mac called these the Bee’s Knees,” Pidge announced, returning and plopping down three identical drinks. Lance laughed a little as he picked one of the drinks, taking a sip of it. It was sweeter than Lance expected, only the slightly bitter taste of alcohol sliding down his throat going along with the sweet taste of honey and lemon. 

“They’re good! Sweet.” Hunk said. “This place ain’t half bad.”

“You gonna bring your baby here?” Lance asked in turn. Hunks cheeks turned red, looking down at the fogged over glass that held his drink. 

“I don’t think Shay would like this kind of place.” Hunk said as the song changed. Pidge snorted, the sound unladylike, but Hunk and Lance had never been sticklers for such rules.

“Shay’s happy as long as she’s with you.” Pidge took a gulp of her drink. The next song washed over them, a bit softer than the last one had been, the same man singing on stage. Lance’s eyes wandered over to the stage once more, taking in the sight of the singer on stage.

He was slim, but Lance could tell he was built, that he could hold his own in a fight. The way he held the microphone in front of him, it was like one would hold a lover, with care and intimacy that Lance had hardly seen in people before. Dark, midnight black hair hung over the singer's eyes, not seeming to hinder heavy violet eyes as they scanned the crowd, and Lance would be damned to hell with the sinners if he said that those eyes didn’t make his breath catch in his throat. The singer was wearing a dark, wine red coat, situated over a black waistcoat, when he turned his head Lance saw his black hair pulled back into a small ponytail.

“Lance.” Pidge snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Pining after someone new already?”

“Oh, dry up.” Lance shot back. The song ended, not flowing into another one but the band pausing on stage in general. Lance’s eyes found the stage again, watching the crimson-clad singer leave the stage and head towards the bar.

“Anyone need another drink?” Lance asked, standing up. The singer was ordering something, barely saying two words to the bartender. Lance didn’t wait for a reply, making his way over to the beauty who had caught his attention. 

Lance didn’t go up to him immediately, standing on the other side of the bar as the band once more picked up the music with a new singer. The new singer didn’t hold a candle to the flame of a singer Lance couldn’t stop staring at though.

The singer brought his drink to his lips, barely brushing his over the rim of the glass as he took a sip. The singer's eyes were on the wood of the bar, the golden light making a halo around his head of golden air, and Lance had never seen anything so beautiful as violet eyes looked up once more and landed on him. 

Brows furrowed on the others face, a curious look, Lance felt his cheeks heat. If there had been a connection between them, a spark would have flown between the air. Lance’s breath stopped as the singer left his place at the bar, heading over to Lance with his drink clasped in hand. 

“You got a problem?” The singer asked. Lance struggled to get the words out, like his tongue had been weighted down by something heavy. Lance couldn’t even think of what he wanted to say, his mind drawing a blank.

“You a heeler?” The singer suddenly asked, head tilting ever so slightly to the side. Lance sputtered, cheeks coloring embarrassment at the question. 

“I’m not.” Lance finally managed out. 

“Oh yeah?” The singer placed his drink on the bar. “Prove it then, doll.” 

The beat of the music abruptly changed, a swinging beat that had couples surfing onto the floor and leaving canceled stamps stuck on the wall. Lance threw his shoulders back, taking the singers and leading him into the dance, the jazz wrapping around them like the stars wrapping around the night sky. 

The song required them to be close, and Lance had no hesitation about pulling the singer closer to his chest until he felt they were moving as one. The other singer on stage wasn’t as good as the singer currently in Lance’s arms, but her voice was sultry and low, just right for the tempo of the jazz song that the singer and Lance moved their bodies too in sync. 

“Tell me your name,” Lance asked in a breathless whisper, lips brushing the singer's ear as they spun around. The other man smirked, jumping up and trusting Lance to catch him and bring him into the swing, his legs wrapping around Lance’s waist for the briefest of moments, their faces inches apart. 

“Keith,” The singer murmured, like it was a secret spoken on the schoolyard playground. Then Keith moved away, dropping back down to the ground, back arching perfectly in time with the music. Lance beamed, taking Keith’s hand and twisting around and spinning them to the song that was just starting to end. 

“Told you I ain’t no heeler.” Lance panted as they stood in the middle of the dance floor, other couples still around them. Keith laughed, a light and airy sound that Lance wanted to hear more of. “Thanks for the dance, doll.” Keith reached up, brushing his fingers along the edges of Lance’s jaw. “But duty calls.”

“What?” Lance followed as Keith pulled away, barely allowing any distance between them. “Just another dance.”

“You’re cute and all, but cute don’t pay my bills.” Keith pushed against Lance’s chest, stopping him from following further. “Come back tomorrow night for another dance if the bulls don’t bust us out.” 

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Lance promised. Keith laughed, it carried over the wave of people before Keith was back on stage, a small smile sent Lance’s way and the next song starting up. 

“Come on, lover boy, before you get struck by Cupid any harder.” Hunk laughed, wrapping his arm around Lance’s shoulders and pulling him from the dance floor. “Did you have fun?” 

“We  _ have  _ to come back here tomorrow,” Lance said in excitement. Hunk led him outside, where Pidge rested against Lance’s breezer, cigarette perched on her lips. 

“So you can see your new honey?” Pidge flicked her cigarette away, crushing it under the heel of her shoe. Lance had never been a fan of the things and refused to let them smoke in his car even with the top down. 

“He ain’t my new honey.” Lance flushed, blaming it on the exertion of dancing and the drink that sat like fire in his stomach. 

“Saw you dancing with him, sure did seem like it.” Pidge climbed into the passenger seat as Lance got into the car as well, staring it up. Hunk scrambled to get into the car before they forgot about him.

“So you won’t be coming back tomorrow night?” Hunk asked from the back seat, nearly falling over as Lance turned a sharp corner.

“You’re damn right I’m coming back tomorrow.” Lance grinned, already excited. “Won’t let that chance pass me by.” 

Lance couldn’t get the grin off his face, not that he was trying very hard, as he drove back into the city and away from the speakeasy. Tomorrow night would bring a whole new adventure, one Lance couldn’t wait for. He just had to wait one might night to see his singer once again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So if this was interesting at all for you, please leave a comment below! Thanks for reading!
> 
>  


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